recently i went to a new hair stylist. breaking news, i know. this is hardworking journalism people.
so me, being me, the incessant over-sharer – decided to tweet about it.
i was actually surprised by the reactions i got. 1) because i thought 2.7 people actually followed me on twitter. as it turns out, 6 do 2) i feel about twitter the way i do about pomegranates. it’s time intensive, exhausting and rather unsatisfying unless someone’s really really good at it. now that i think about it, that’s how i feel about most things. 3) i just feel like there should be a third point but it’s been a long day so let’s just pretend i had a super persuasive one and now you’re completely in agreeance with me (sidenote: how is agreeance not a word? what is wrong with you webster?)
anyway for those that missed it (all but 6 of you), here are the tweets:
You know you’re become a woman when you go to a new hair stylist and you’re not afraid to tell her if she messes up you’ll have a nervous breakdown
“I don’t like getting my hair cut” her: “ok well how much would you like me to take off?” Me: “none.”
Her: “did your old hair stylist do any gray coverage?” Me: death glare. Her:”I mean you only have 2″ me: eyeing the curling iron to smack her
Her w/scissors. “I gave you a bob, kidding” me: “I am in pr, I have media lists that would blow your mind and ruin your career. Don’t mess w/me. Haha but seriously”
I need tequila shots for haircuts like I need xanax for the dentist
But the point isn’t the tweets, it’s the reaction. all men. all commenting on these tweets and it occured to me that – they REALLY don’t get it.
ladies – each and everyone of us had that hair color/cut that TRAUMATIZED us.
i once had orange hair. i looked like bozo. i once had an updo that made me look like dolly parton. in her good days.
i was cooking the other day and thinking about this – the things i dont understand about men. like – why do they think scratching their junk is ok? ever. i dont care if we’ve dated for years, i dont need to see that. do you think my bra hasn’t been digging into me for the last 3 hours or my underwear isn’t going places where the sun don’t shine?
and why they really just can’t put the seat down. and don’t even give me that “you could put the seat up” crap. we birth your children and our ovaries play soccer once a month. put the darn seat down.
my ex obsessed about the size of my tv. he’d always be like “i can’t even see the football” and i’d be like “that’s the whole point.” i’m pretty sure it was one of the main reasons we broke up, and i’m only half kidding.
yes, this post has gone from haircuts to toilet etiquette.
let’s cook shall we?
pulled pork sliders seem to complement this post. the first time i made these they were part of the snackadium. they involve beer and a crockpot – and pork. a cook’s dream.
this recipe is almost the same as the tostadas one, but add barbecue sauce (could use any bbq sauce but sweet baby ray’s is the jammmm)
also, i know these photos have jaundice. i’m sorrrryyyy. i’ll reshoot when i can.
- 4 – 5 lbs pork roast (i wanted butt but my grocery only had shoulder)
- 1 beer (not light, i used 312)
- 3 teaspoon smoked paprika
- 2 teaspoons garlic power
- 2 teaspoons onion powder
- 2 tsp salt
- 2 tsp pepper
- 1 tablespoon olive oil
- 1/2 cup barbecue sauce
- heat 1 tablespoon olive oil in pan on medium high heat.
- combine smoked paprika, salt, pepper, onion powder, garlic powder in bowl. rub all over pork roast.
- place pork in skillet, brown pork roast on all sides about 2-3 minutes per side
- place in crockpot, pour beer on top. cover and cook on high for 2 1/2 hours, low for 6 hours.
- once tender and easily tearing apart, remove pork and pull apart. add barbecue sauce.
- place back in crockpot (with beer marinade in there still) and cook for another 15 to 20 minutes so it really soaks it up.
- toss onto hawaiian rolls.